


Some Sunny Day

by f_m_r_l



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Bittersweet, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-11
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-29 01:46:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,267
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999408
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/f_m_r_l/pseuds/f_m_r_l
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve learns to dance.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Sunny Day

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to thisprettywren for being a patient, thorough, thoughtful, and encouraging beta.
> 
> I'd thought I'd posted this here quite some time ago. Oops.

"You're late," she said.

Steve had imagined hearing her say that again, but this quiet room full of muted pastels had never featured in his daydreams. Translucent half-drawn shades softened the sunlight and cut off the view of the city beyond, leaving only the sight of a rose garden gone slightly wild. He could see roses on the rugs underfoot, on the chintz pillows scattered across the bed and two armchairs, and in the cheeks of the woman who had been waiting so long to scold him. He may have never imagined this setting, but he knew what his response would be.

"I had problems with my ride."

Peggy smiled, her smile more beautiful than ever though wreathed by wrinkles, then commented "They've told me that I have one more assignment. I'm to talk you into engaging with the world."

"Nothing you haven't done before."

Steve remembered her words on that grim, rainy day when she'd found him in Italy. "You were meant for more than this, you know." She'd probably told S.H.I.E.L.D. that she would be the one to draw him out, if anyone could.

He flashed her a grin, the sort he'd used to steady the nerves of his companions and, hell, his own nerves. Then he realized with a shock that she was the only one alive who would recognize it, who had seen the grin he hadn't used for his promotional posters and performances. She was one of the few who had seen the world he knew, and for her it was most of a lifetime away. Except for this one, elderly woman, he was more alone than he'd been before in his life.

Peggy must have seen at least some of that in his eyes. She quickly gave him some privacy by turning her armchair so she could access the computer on the table next to her. Steve saw her do _something_ to the computer. Within a few seconds, old music flooded from the machine, tinny, full of static, and achingly familiar.

Peggy turned back and held out her hands. "I think it's high time someone taught you how to dance."

Steve helped Peggy to her feet and found, as she wrapped her arms around him, that it was easy to hold her, easy to let her guide him. Peggy's hands trembled slightly against him, but her movements were sure as she gently took him through a simple series of steps.

It wasn't long at all before he was confident enough to look up from his feet and into her fond gaze. She drew him closer and he could tell that she was wearing that same perfume she'd always worn, wafting anew with every turn. For at least the moment he was in the arms of the woman he'd loved. When the song drew to an end he returned her to her chair, breathless but with stars in her eyes.

"It's been a good life", she said, "but, oh, did I miss you!" She turned back to her computer again.. "I've been briefed on what you've been doing. Let me show you what I've been up to."

It turned out that Peggy's computer held not only music, but albums full of photos of her daughter, her grandchildren, even her great grandchildren. They listened to the music they'd known together, including a muffled recording from one of the Captain America shows, as they talked about what had been going on with Peggy and the world. Listening to her talk about her life, the things she'd done, the places she'd been, what had been happening in the world when she and her family were in it was much more engaging than the history briefings he'd been having from S.H.I.E.L.D. The world she described was lived in and loved. As she clicked through the photos, even the most unfamiliar pictures had a humanity to them.

And one of the pictures, of course, was a wedding photo. Peggy had been beautiful, her husband earnest. She had put her life back together after the war and moved on, like so many people around the globe. And it had been a good life, though she was happy to see Steve again and know that he lived.

She had pictures of Steve in the computer, too; newspaper clippings, photos that had been declassified, and comic books. There were pictures of posters, videos of performances, and an assortment of other promotional materials.

It was bittersweet. He envied that earnest young man who had married her. But it was best that she'd found someone. While it was nice to see the way he'd always been remembered, he would never have wanted her to spend her life in mourning, missing something she couldn't have.

When the visit ended, he promised to return the next week. The week passed, as usual, but it all seemed a little less gray.

There was a young woman waiting for him at the door when he returned.

The first words she said to him were "I'm sorry," and Steve's stomach sank. He knew he didn't want to hear what would come next. There wasn't the adrenaline of battle to haze the words or the necessity of duty to distract him.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, "it was her heart. She was pretty healthy for her age, but hearts don't last forever."

It felt like a blow to the gut. He'd fallen in love with Peggy, not that long ago in his life. And no matter how her body had changed, no matter how anything else about her had changed, he had still loved her soul. And now that was gone.

With another wrench he realized that his last living anchor to the life he'd known had vanished. He was angry with himself for being so selfish as to think of that when Peggy had just died. His focus should be only on her. But still his heart ached for the life he'd known as well as the woman he'd loved.

He couldn't stand silent and dazed forever, though it felt as though he might. Eventually he fumbled for something to say. It occurred to him that he didn't even know who this woman standing in front of him was. Was she a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent? A caretaker?

"I'm Steve Rogers." That, at least, was safe to say.

"I know. I was waiting for you. Grandma Peggy has been showing me her scrapbooks since I was small enough to perch on her knee. I'm Meg Thompson—I was named after her."

"I'm so sorry for your loss." The words were impersonal, inadequate. But they were all he had to give just now.

"And I for yours. I'm glad she was able to see you again before...." Meg trailed off, looking away for a moment. Then she gathered herself and continued.

"She left this for you." Meg passed a small object to him. "It's full of pictures and songs she wanted you to have."

It looked like a key fob of some sort, a smooth blue shape with a metal loop attached to one end. Silver letters on the side said '4GB', but there were no instructions.

Steve thanked Meg and shoved the object into his pocket before saying good-bye. He would have some flowers sent. And he would ask someone at S.H.I.E.L.D. how to make the device work. When he got around to learning how to use the technology. When he was ready to confront this future and the past.


End file.
